University of Virginia Library

9. IX.

“One pleasant afternoon, the two, Carl and Matilda,
rambled forth, according to their usual custom,
towards the ancient abbey. The sun was
just about setting, and he made a glorious descent.
His rays streamed through the broken walls by
which they walked, and they paused to contemplate
the picturesque effect of their scattered beams,
gliding among tombs, in which the dust that
once was life, and strength, and ambition, could
no longer feel their warmth. While they looked,

a cloud suddenly arose in the heavens, obscuring
and shutting out the bright glories which had won
their gaze, from the shattered walls which they had
made golden but a moment before. The sudden
clouding of the sky brought an instinctive gloom
to their mutual minds, and without seeming to
notice the absence of any connexion between the
phenomenon upon which they looked, and the object
in her thoughts, Matilda quickly remarked:

“`I hope, Carl, that nothing is the matter with
Herman.'

“Strange to say, the thought that something
was the matter with her brother, was even then
the busy thought in the mind of Carl. He replied
after a moment's pause —

“`Indeed, Matilda, I hope not.'

“A slight laugh rose from the ruins, and the
conscious soul of Carl was smitten within him.

“`Had he been sincere in the utterance of that
hope?' was the question which he asked himself
when he heard the laugh; but it was a question
which he dared not answer. Matilda did not seem
to have heard the sound which had touched him
so deeply; and he was sufficiently collected to
conceal his agitation from her. But while they
spoke together, though but a few moments had
elapsed, the cloud had veered round, and now

hung in the sky directly before them. Somehow,
this appearance affected Carl seriously. He
coupled the cloud with his own thoughts, and his
imagination grew busy in its contemplation. It
did not seem a common cloud to his eyes; and
its progress, from a speck in the pathway of the
sun, to a mantle, in whose pitchy bosom the dying
but glorious orb was to find his splendors utterly
subdued, was a marvel to a mind so subtle as his.
His fancies grew firm and strengthened when he
saw that Matilda observed the wonder also.

“`That is a strange looking cloud, Carl!' she
exclaimed — `see how it rolls — over and over —
onward and onward — and yet there is no wind.
It is coming towards us.'

“The flight of the cloud seemed to have increased
in velocity. It neared them rapidly, and
was evidently descending. When above them, it
seemed to open and to expand, and from its bosom
Carl felt the warm drops upon his face.

“`It rains!' he said, `let us go into the abbey.'

“`I feel none,' said Matilda.

“`Indeed! it is full on my cheek!'

“The eyes of Matilda turned from the floating
mass that had now passed over them, but when
her glance met the face of her husband, she
screamed in terror.

“`Father of heaven!' she exclaimed, `be with
us! Carl, my husband, your face is covered with
blood!'

“`Say not so!' he cried, `what can it mean?'
He wiped his face with his handkerchief, and the
stains were visible to his own eyes; and when he
looked down upon his garments, they, too,
were covered with the same sanguinary color.
The wonder was greater still, when they looked in
vain to find a drop upon the person of Matilda.
Yet her arm had been fast locked within his, and
the very hand which had sustained her's was sprinkled
plentifully with the stains.